The Vineyard
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson have just lost their friend Moritz Stiefel due to suicide. They share a tender moment in the vineyard. Act II, Scene V of the musical Spring Awakening with Glee characters. Kurt is Ernst, Blaine is Hanschen . Hope you like!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Spring Awakening (or this would happen).**

**Note: Okay, so I've wanted to do this for the longest time. A Glee/Spring Awakening crossover was inevitable, considering two main cast members and one recurring guest star have been in that show. Besides, I think Chris Colfer would make just the cutest Ernst! The dialogue is direct from the libretto, with my own little embellishments to make the story longer. Kurt is a German name, so it works for this, and just imagine that Blaine is, too. On with the show! Reviews are welcome!**

Kurt Hummel wandered through the vineyard. His friend—could he really call him a friend? More of a school-mate—had just died. No, not died. Moritz had killed himself. Kurt didn't quite know how to react to the news. He wasn't friends with Moritz Stiefel, per se, but he didn't—hadn't—disliked the boy, either. Still, he was saddened by the news, and just couldn't see how someone could just kill themselves with a gun like that. Kurt settled down in the grass, staring up at the sky, watching the sun go down. He could hear church bells tolling in the distance, and the noise relaxed him.

"Those bells…so peaceful," a voice from his right sounded. Kurt jumped with a start, but settled when he saw that it was just Blaine Anderson, a boy in his class. Blaine was so unlike Kurt. He had dark hair and a darker complexion, compared to Kurt's alabaster skin and light brown hair.

"I know. Sometimes, when it's quiet, in the evening like this, I imagine myself as a counter pastor. With my red-cheeked wife, my library, my degrees…boys and girls who live nearby give me their hands when I go walking…" Kurt trailed off, thinking about what it would be like to just live on a farm with nothing around but miles of land. Perhaps the wife part was a lie, as he didn't really have an interest in any girl in particular, but he would've loved to have a library. Blaine shot him a look.

"You can't be serious." Kurt flashed him a quizzical glance. "Really, Kurt, you're such a sentimentalist! The pious, serene faces you see on the clergy, it's all an act—to hide their envy!"

"O…oh?" Kurt tried to look confused, but he only noticed how especially nice Blaine looked today.

Blaine nodded. "Trust me, there are only three ways a man can go. He can let the status quo defeat him—like Moritz. He can rock the boat—like Melchior—and be expelled. Or he can bide his time, and let the System work for _him_—like me."

Kurt shifted uncomfortably in the grass as Blaine moved closer to him. "So what you're saying, is that I should let things happen?"

Blaine sighed. "Think of the future as a pail of whole milk. One man sweats and stirs—churning it into butter—like Otto, for example. Another man frets, and spills his milk, and cries all night—like Georg. But me, well… I'm like a pussycat. I just…skim off…the cream."

Kurt shifted again, taking note of how close Blaine was to him. Closer than they'd ever been before, in fact. "Just…skim off the cream?" he asked.

"Right," Blaine said. "Skim off the cream."

"But what about the…?" Kurt started to ask. He stopped, noticing the look of amusement on Blaine's face. "You're laughing. What-? Blaine?"

Blaine laughed, and a soft look came across his face. "Come, cream away the bliss. Travel the world within my lips. Fondle the pearl of your distant dreams…haven't you heard the word of your body? Oh, you're gonna be wounded. Oh, you're gonna be my wound. Oh, you're gonna bruise, too. Oh, I'm gonna be your bruise." Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt on the lips. It felt so good, so unbelievably good, and Kurt couldn't believe it was happening. He just wanted to melt into that kiss, just die right there, but it was over before he knew it.

"Oh, God…" he whispered.

"Mmm, I know," Blaine said. "When we look back, thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably…beautiful."

"And…and in the meantime?" Kurt asked, hopeful.

"Why not?" Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt again, deeper than before. Kurt felt his hand travel upwards to caress Blaine's face, and Blaine ran a hand through Kurt's hair. Kurt just wanted to live in this moment forever, to go home and to dream about this every night until he died. How could he have foreseen a moment such as this, a moment in which he was kissing—kissing!—someone, namely, Blaine Anderson? Blaine moved away from Kurt at long last, and Kurt found himself wanting more, so much more.

"On my way here this afternoon, I thought perhaps, we'd only…talk," Kurt admitted.

"So are you sorry we…?"

Kurt shook his head quickly. "Oh, no! I love you, Blaine, as I've never loved _anyone_."

Blaine smirked. "And so you should."

Kurt blushed, and looked down at the grass. "Oh, I'm gonna be wounded…oh, I'm gonna be your wound…"

Hanschen grinned. "Oh, I'm gonna bruise you. Oh, you're gonna be my bruise."

Kurt smiled. He didn't care if Blaine bruised him, or wounded him, or any of that. He didn't care if this kiss, this kiss which had felt so good and so real, hurt him in the end. It was all about _now_, he realized. Not _then_, but _now_, and Kurt Hummel didn't care what had happened _then_. All he cared about was what was happening right _now_.


End file.
